


Hold

by Jubalii



Series: 2021 30 Day WOL Challenge [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Hyur Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), NieR: Automata Spoilers, Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:01:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29058657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jubalii/pseuds/Jubalii
Summary: Prompt: HoldIn the wake of destruction following Komra's carnival, Eachna offers Konogg what little comfort she can.[Written for Sea's 30 Day WOL Challenge]
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: 2021 30 Day WOL Challenge [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2131893
Kudos: 2





	Hold

* * *

Komra was in shambles.

Eachna stood on the village’s main path, shielding her eyes against the dawn as she surveyed the full extent of the damage. What had been a cheerful carnival was now a smoldering ruin. Twisted remains of dwarven houses littered the scorched earth, jagged support beams curled against the backdrop of a radiant morning sky. The central plaza was a mess of spilled food and wasted ale, overturned tables hiding the charred remains of painstakingly crafted signs and banners. A few strings of lights still sparkled gaily above the ruins, a mocking reminder of the joy that had prevailed not three bells before.

To her immense relief, it seemed as though the majority of the village was shaken, but unharmed. Teams of dwarves worked in tandem to build neat piles of shrapnel, cleaning all but the most dangerous metal fragments. Missus Dig Site Chief neatly swept the area near her cookfire, small puffs of ash swirling up in her wake as she toed aside crushed vegetables. Neighbors called to one another from higher dwellings, ascertaining the damage without scaling the cliffs to the village below.

Even with the damage, it could have been so much worse. Those strange machines could have easily wiped out the entire village, leaving aught but smoke and gristle. While her admittedly meager understanding of machinery was limited to Allagan droid units, it was clear that these… copies… carried more power than anything Allag, or even Garlemald, hoped to achieve. Magitek didn’t hold a candle to the destruction she’d witnessed this evening.

The worst part of all was that the copies had seemed so… so _human_. They could have easily been Midlander Hyurs—Humes, she corrected herself, substituting the First’s term for her race. But as lifelike as they seemed, they also lacked… something. There were no words to describe the eerie, skin-crawling strangeness that made her want to look away as quickly as possible from their neutral, expressionless faces. In her eyes, more charm could be found in the rigid motions of a Talos, or the clanking jolts of Ironbeards.

These robots-that-resembled-people… she just couldn’t put her faith in them.

Making her way into the village proper, Eachna started at the sight of a familiar black outfit. _Konogg_! She sighed in relief, although it was short lived when she found his white-clad twin missing from his side. Having not been able to find Anogg anywhere in the surrounding countryside, she’d been hoping that the girl had made her way back to Komra. Many Eorzean creatures would happily snack on an unsuspecting Lalafell; she could only assume that the same rang true for dwarvenkind. It wouldn’t do for a lone dwarf to wander the mountains without protection.

As troublesome as they were, Anogg and Konogg reminded her of her own twins—though the Leveilleurs might have taken some offense at being called such. She had never asked their ages, and it was hard to guess when everyone wore such thick beards. Still, she was fairly certain that they were younger than her own twenty-seven winters. They were clever and curious—a dangerous combination— but their inquisitive natures were tempered with the best of intentions. Like the Leveilleurs, they wanted to make their impact on the world; _unlike_ the Leveilleurs, they had neither the experience nor the wherewithal to do so. Yet.

They bickered with one another, acted out in childish petulance, and never stopped to think before they acted. They were a constant headache for the one man who’d taken it upon himself to look after them. And _bossy_! They demanded all sorts of things from her, without so much as a please or thank you. Yet everyone from the Dig Site Chief to the drunken dwarf in the plaza insisted that Anogg and Konogg admired her, and she held more sway over them than any of their peers. 

Perhaps Eachna should have been annoyed, or at least harried—after all, the Warrior of Darkness had no time for a pair of mischievous twins who hadn’t learned to grow up. But in reality their youthful, mischievous nature only served to endear them to her all the more. It was their manner, the way they glowed with zeal or drooped in disappointment. Or when their eternal squabbling was set aside in favor of solving a puzzle, bending together with shared whispers over the coiled remnants of some machine.

Perhaps these emotions were the remnants of Azem inside her, whispers of a soul unsundered. The Shepherd that reached out, yearning for connections with those around them. Without thinking, she knew that Azem had loved life itself, and had loved the people they met in their travels as dearly as she loved Anogg and Konogg. It was a keen, platonic love, so strong that she often felt it must have been woven into her very aether, radiating from her to touch everyone she met.

The Ascians and the Scions couldn’t understand what that love meant for her. It was her drive, her reason for approaching battle after battle with fiery determination. To have lived for so many years without that connection, cut off from the world and never knowing the love that waited for her there… and then to _discover_ it, again and again and again! In every country, on every shard, shining as brightly as the star itself. In her friends, those she came to view as family. In those that she aided, mothers who smiled at her on the street, fathers who nodded as she passed by their homes. Even in the enemy, in the tempered—it was her duty to strike them down, and she did so with a love so pure, so full of anguish. 

Even in Emet-Selch, who asked for naught but to live on in her memories.

Even in Elidibus, for whom she’d wept tears of bitter loss.

Even in Azem, gone forever and yet still here, still loving _through_ her.

She loved those twins, and she knew that deep down, they were a beloved part of their community… which made it all the worse when she saw Konogg alone, with a pack of angry dwarves bearing down on him in the plaza.

“What are you lazing about here for, Konogg? Where’s Anogg?” Eachna barely had time to register the sharp bite in his tone, the layer of pain barely hidden beneath a mocking scowl. Before Konogg could reply, another dwarf spoke up.

“She’s still up to no good, I bet! And run off before we could make her own up to it!”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Konogg protested, his voice wavering nervously. “Anogg, she’s….” He trailed off, unable to admit that he had lost sight of his twin.

“She’s what?” This third voice wasn’t raised in anger… it was worse. Soft and brittle, entirely without warmth. It was the sort of fury that had transcended the need for shouting. It answered to action, and action alone. Eachna gulped, shifting her weight as she prepared to step in and break up any scuffles before they had a chance to start. With adrenaline running high, heightened emotions would be the perfect catalyst to throw fists.

“Go on.” The quiet dwarf stepped forward, looming over Konogg with clenched fists. “Explain to us where exactly Anogg is.”

“I…” Konogg looked away, subdued by the sheer force of the man’s rage.

“Because I’ll tell you where my wife is,” the dwarf said calmly. _Twelve forfend._ Eachna’s breath caught in her throat, lungs burning as though doused with acid. “She’s at death’s door because of the injuries she suffered in the attack!” Shocked by the revelation, Konogg met his eyes. He froze, seemingly stunned by whatever it was he saw there.

Eachna’s eyes closed, jaw clenched and heart aching. This entire situation was a complete mess. She could not in good faith say that the fault lay with either twin, not entirely. If anything, Konogg was the more innocent of the two. He was the one who’d insisted upon taking caution, wanting to know more about 2P instead of blindly trusting her. A cruel, calculating mind had manipulated two loving hearts— was it acceptable to blame the deceived?

But 2P and her comrades weren’t around to take responsibility for the loss, and in their place the dwarves would be looking for someone to point fingers at. Anogg and Konogg had unwittingly created their own bad luck. They were the village troublemakers, considered to be one explosion away from wiping Komra off the map. The Dig Site Chief had said as much earlier.

Eachna as painfully aware of her status as an interloper, an outsider with little knowledge of dwarven culture. She could Lali-ho with the best of them, but that didn’t mean she was a dwarf. They were a society with their own code of honor, rules they governed by, and it was not her place to offer an opinion. It wouldn’t be right to speak up, and so she had no choice but to hold her peace. Konogg would have to weather this alone.

“Even if she wakes, she may never make a full recovery….” The man choked, voice cracking with the first sounds of emotion. He shook himself roughly, brushing past Konogg and heading for the outskirts of Komra. “So if you know what’s good for you,” he said, pausing to look back with unguarded malice, “you’ll get out of this village before I do something we’ll both regret.”

The husband’s comrades hesitated, looking at Konogg with undefinable expressions… at least to her. She’d not yet fully mastered the art of discerning the more subtle emotions visible on the blank face of a bearded dwarf. After a moment’s pause, they too turned and followed the man out of the village. Konogg said nothing, trembling where he stood.

Ever conscious of her height, Eachna knelt down beside her friend. Even at this angle she couldn’t help but tower over him, fists clenching and unclenching as she tried to think of some encouragement. What could she possibly say? What comfort could she offer to someone who was, perhaps for the first time, facing the very real consequences of a reckless action? There was no good answer, no magic word that could turn back time and make everything better.

_I wish there were… oh, how I wish there were._

Konogg turned away from her in shame, covering his face as the first sobs began to wrack his small frame. Sorrow pierced her heart, sharper than a blade. He was _so_ like Alphinaud. She was reminded of that fateful night in Ul’dah, when Pipin had ferried them to the relative safety of Camp Dragonhead. Poor Alphinaud, his face the portrait of unbearable grief, his thin limbs shuddering from the biting cold. She’d nearly had to scoop him from the carriage and carry him inside the way one might a child.

Another young man in another time who had worked so hard, doing what he thought was right, only to watch as his world crumbled to dust around him. He had wept as well, although he’d waited until they had all retired for the night. Clearly he’d thought that the thick stone walls would muffle the sounds of his ragged sobs. She had lay awake that night, listening to the tears of a man who, in reality, was still very much a child.

It was the thought of Alphinaud, alone and inconsolable in a stranger’s bedroom, that had Eachna reaching for the young dwarf. She put a hand on Konogg’s shoulder, hoping that that contact didn’t cross any unknown boundaries. It was a small reminder that he wasn’t alone; companionship could sometimes be its own balm. To her surprise—and utter relief—Konogg curled into her with a low wail, blindly seeking her warmth as he sagged against her in misery. 

She wrapped her arms around the dwarf, less of a true embrace and more of a support to keep him from sliding to a crumpled heap on the dusty earth. He sobbed his pain against her collarbone, the thick fabric of his beard dampening with tears. Small wet circles formed on the cloth of her intricate coat, but she paid them no mind. Instead, she began to hum.

Her bardic instruction had taught her the power of song. Her nature told her to sing, and so she did—the Sharlayan airs of her childhood, Ishgardian lullabies, the rhythmic ballads of Sui-no-Sato. And something slower, a wordless, wandering tune that reminded her of Amaurot’s perpetual twilight, the soft scuffling footsteps of Shades locked in a fleeting moment of precious peace.

Her clear soprano lifted through the empty plaza, carried away on the ocean breeze.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a month late to this challenge, but better late than never!


End file.
